


But For You...

by dreamingofdragons



Category: Mo Dao Zu Shi, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)
Genre: Angst, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-10-25 09:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20721686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingofdragons/pseuds/dreamingofdragons
Summary: What if Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu had been at the Jin clan at the same time? What if Xue Yang changed things so that Mo Xianyu never had to return home in disgrace, to be beaten and abused to the point of insanity? What if Mo Xuanyu had been the light to Xue Yang's darkness? And so an alternate storyline begins; because the most amazing changes can begin with a single act of kindness.





	1. What if...?

Xue Yang prowled through the flawless grounds of the Jin clan’s home. As a guest of the Jin clan he was in theory allowed to train with the disciples. They didn’t want him there and made no effort to disguise it. His lips curled upwards as a familiar rage washed through him. He embraced the scarlet burning, holding it close as a lover as its fire burned away the softer, useless emotions. What use was hurt? He was better than them! He didn’t need anyone to tell him that he was an exceptional talent; the mere fact that they swallowed down their innate distrust and distaste of him whilst their eyes gleamed with avarice for what he could bring to them spoke volumes. He didn’t need to train with them or play with them. Well, he might play. Certainly, they would be games that he enjoyed… His eyes gleamed.  
“Stop it… please…”  
The broken words fit so well with his bloody thoughts that for a moment he thought they were part of his fantasy. Blinking, he paused at the corner of one of the great halls as he realised what he was looking at. This was a picture-perfect little courtyard: the air sweet with blossoms and a large pond stuffed with fat, lazy koi. It was also usually isolated at this time of day. There were five Jin clan disciples and he recognised the smug bulk of Jin Zixun, the nephew of the sect leader. The boy was a bully and nothing more, and he was about double the size on both height and bulk than the boy he had pinned against the wall. As if he wasn’t enough, his henchmen clustered round just in case the boy tried to escape. Five on one, for such a scrap. Oh, they were brave! Xue Yang recognised the boy from around the place. He was one of the only two illegitimate children that Jin Guangshan had deigned to acknowledge and accept into the family bosom. The older one was Guangyao, son of a prostitute. The younger was Mo Xuanyu., the son of a minor noble family. Their precarious positions in the clan, reliant on their father’s notoriously fickle regard, made them easy targets. His delicate hands fluttering at Jin Zixun’s sleeve, Xuanyu was having zero luck getting the bigger boy off him.  
“Wretched little cut-sleeve.”  
Zixun snarled, grabbing a handful of the immaculately clan robes that his victim wore and twisting them so that he was throttling him. “Why don’t you go kill yourself or run back home to your whore mother? You’re an embarrassment on us all!”  
Freeing one hand from the robes, he smacked the younger boy hard over his head and the boy cried out.  
“I didn’t do anything!”  
He sobbed. Zixun’s lips curled.  
“You don’t dare to do anything! But you look, don’t you, you revolting little imp? I’ve seen you when we’re all changing. You can’t take your eyes off me.”  
“Cut-sleeve he might be, but I don’t think that makes him mentally deficient.”

They all looked up with surprise. The young man leaning against the wall was tall and slim. In stark contrast with the Jin clan disciples’ flawless peony robes, he was dressed all in black. His long hair was black as ink and pulled back with a silver clasp to throw his truly stunning face into sharp relief. He was shockingly beautiful and the smile he cast upon Jin Zixun and his followers was radiant enough to rival the sun but those eyes… there was something lurking and malevolent in those beautiful amber eyes. Jin Zixun spluttered with surprise.  
“Xue Yang! What the hell does that mean?”  
“I shall say it very slowly, in very simple language.”  
Xue Yang purred. “Your cousin Zixuan is the handsome one. You favour a sack of half rotten potatoes. Mo Xuanyu might like men but unless he’s clinically insane I can’t imagine that he even wants to look at you, let alone imagines getting naked and squishy with your stinking carcass.”  
Drawn up on his tiptoes and half-throttled, Xuanyu was stunned to find laughter welling up inside him. Half rotten potatoes…?! Zixun had started to flush an unhealthy looking purple.  
“You stinking nobody, you want to fight?”  
Xue Yang’s beautiful face lit up like someone had switched a light on.  
“Do lets.”  
He purred and attacked.

Pressed back against the wall to avoid to chaos, Xuanyu could only watch with his mouth hanging open. He had never seen anyone so deadly effective. He had seen people fight before, his half-brother Jin Zixuan was a wonderful swordsman but most people instinctively tempered their style when sparring. Xue Yang fought like he wanted to make his enemies wish they had never been born. And from the look of him, Jin Zixun was dearly wishing that right at this very moment. Finally, he managed to break away. His eyes were already swelling shut from a certainly broken nose and he was hunched over his ribcage, like a few of those might be broken as well.  
“You’ll pay for this!”  
He sputtered thickly, spitting out a mouthful of blood. Xue Yang smiled at him brilliantly.  
“Ready for round two already? As you wish, young master Jin.”  
Zixun’s purple, bruised face turned pale and with a few insults thrown over his shoulder, he and his friends ran like the very demons from hell were after them.  
“Oh.”  
A strange feeling was welling up in Mo Xuanyu’s romantic heart. His eyes fixed on the other boy’s face and his hands fluttered over his heart. “Oh, you’re beautiful!”

Xue Yang looked at the other boy with surprise. He had never been called beautiful in all his life. Generally, it wasn’t a compliment that men generally received! Mo Xuanyu might, he thought grudgingly. If anyone had to right to be called beautiful it was this guy. Short and slender as a willow wand his long robes flowed to the floor in a spill of fabric, as though he was a dancer. It was tradition for the men in their class to wear their hair long, but his raven tresses might be long enough for him to sit on. Held back in a gold clasp they curled around his lovely face in artful locks. His eyes were as large, dark and velvety as pansy flowers and his sweet little mouth was plush and pink. And that mouth got suddenly a lot closer because Xuanyu rushed towards him, snuggling in against his side. Nobody ever got close to Xue Yang willingly and for a moment his fingers twitched frantically in automatic response to hurt the body within such easy distance. Xue Yang clamped down on his homicidal urges and then wondered why he should. As Jin Zixun has already discovered, Xuanyu was anybody’s victim. Perhaps that was why he hesitated, he told himself. Who wanted such easy pickings? His nostrils flaring in confusion, he inadvertently sucked in a deep breath of the other boy’s scent. Oh, dear God, he smelled like a fresh spring breeze with just a hint of wildflowers.  
“You made them go away.”  
His breathy voice was melodic, and he gazed up at Xue Yang with an expression of utter hero-worship. “You’re so fierce! I’ve never seen anyone fight like that.”  
Xue Yang was feeling like the ground was shifting beneath his feet: what he had previously thought was solid rock suddenly turning to quicksand. The boy was shorter than he was by a head and when he ducked his head, his cascade of black hair flowed over Xue Yang’s robe. Black-on-black, Mo Xuanyu’s hair made his robe look dull and lifeless. He was a creature of the city but somehow Mo Xuanyu conjured up images of spring breaking over a fresh and unspoiled vista. Even his skin looked like creamy flower petals: tender, fragile and perfect. A bruise was emerging on his cheekbone where Jin Zixun had smacked him and the sight of that desecration of something so fragile and perfect made the killing urge well up in his chest with a vengeance. Never mind that he was a guest here; he was going to slaughter him slowly!  
“Better than you. Couldn’t you try? Jin Zixun was easily close enough for you to slip a dagger through his ribs.”  
Mo Xuanyu’s large eyes widened.  
“I… I… surely that’s a bit extreme?”  
He asked weakly.  
“At what point does dangerous become deadly?”  
Xue Yang lectured him. “Get him before he gets you!”  
Xue Yang realised immediately that he’d revealed much more about himself with that sentence than he had ever intended anyone to know and if pity replaced the hero-worship then it would have been his own dagger contacting Mo Xuanyu a heartbeat later. But Mo Xuanyu didn’t look pitying. He looked a little embarrassed.  
“I don’t have a dagger.”  
He whispered, as though telling Xue Yang a shameful secret. As though it wasn’t at all unreasonable to stab someone through the heart who disrespected you. The ground shifted again beneath Xue Yang’s feet, rolling like an earthquake. Before he even made a conscious decision, he reached into his robe and pulled out one of his daggers. It was a black-handled beauty with a stiletto blade, and it would fit Mo Xuanyu’s graceful little hand perfectly. He passed it over to the other boy and Xuanyu gazed at it with wide eyes.  
“Next time, stab him.”  
Xue Yang told him bluntly. “If you’re not sure how to get through the ribs then stab him in the balls. He’ll leave yours alone for sure after that!”  
A smile started in Mo Xuanyu’s pansy eyes and rushed outwards until his beautiful face was glowing.  
“You’re not like most people.”  
He said in the mother of all understatements. “But you are so sweet.”  
And Xue Yang felt the ground shift so ferociously he almost fell to his knees.

Mo Xuanyu settled down on the floor in his room. His half brother Zixuan had a private suite, he knew. Apparently, the screens could be pulled aside to give him an unobstructed view over the thick forests and his sleeping area was screened off from a socialising area where he could entertain friends. Xuanyu had a cubicle in one of the dormitories shared by all the other young disciples. If he was a little bit taller then he could stretch out on the floor and his fingers and toes would touch the limits of his private space. Such was the difference in status between a legitimate heir and an illegitimate – and rather unwanted – brat, in the Jin clan. Still, Xuanyu wasn’t bitter. He was realistic enough and knew enough about his father’s dozens of illegitimate offspring to realise that it was a minor miracle that he was here and acknowledged at all. Unlike Guangyao, who ached for his father to bestow the same respect and affection upon him that he did with Zixuan, Xuanyu realised when something was completely beyond gods and man. He would become a cultivator for the Jin clan, and that was enough.

Carefully unfolding the small lap desk, he opened the trunk that stored his world possessions and took out his paper, brushes and inks. Setting the paper down on the desk, he weighed down its corners and focused on grinding his chosen ink; black as midnight and some of the saffron. In the privacy of his little cell, he allowed his mind to wander back to this morning. His inner eyes lingered again on Xue Yang and his heroism; savouring his fluid movements as he fought Zixun to a standstill within moments. His raven black hair flared like a silken scarf in the bright daylight and the joy of battle and victory made his dark eyes shine like the stars of heaven. He held his sword Jiangzai like an extension of himself. He was the epitome of lethal beauty and Xuanyu’s eyes half closed, his hands beginning to move over the paper. Some people said that if a drawing was realistic enough it could capture a small piece of the soul within it. Xuanyu knew that they meant the subject of the artwork but in that moment, he willed a piece of his own soul into the drawing. It was a gift, after all. He wanted Xue Yang to know him.

Xue Yang was cleaning his blade from inconvenient spillages of Jin Zixun’s blood when once of the Jin clan servants nervously approached him.  
“Y…young master Xue Yang…”  
Xue Yang cut his eyes to the stuttering figure and the man took an instinctive step backwards. Sitting beside him, Guangyao gave a warm chuckle.  
“It’s alright. What can Xue Yang do for you?”  
From the look of his sweat-sheened pallor the only thing he thought Xue Yang could do for him was spill his entrails onto the floor for the sheer fun of it. Still, summoning up every ounce of his courage he held something out to Xue Yang with visibly shaking hands.  
“I… I was t…told… to bring this to y…you, young master.”  
Xue Yang’s eyes sparked with curiosity.  
“From you, Guangyao?”  
“Not at all. I knew that we would be spending time together this evening.”  
Xue Yang accepted the gift. The scroll of paper was neatly tied with a golden coloured silk ribbon and it smelled inexplicably of roses. Inspecting it from every angle he could not find anything that suggested ill will. Indeed, the paper was thick and creamy and clearly of high quality. Chewing on his lower lip, Xue Yang was overcome with his curiosity and untied the ribbon from the scroll. Unrolling it, his eyes widened.  
“Oh, my!”  
Jin Guangyao was well educated in excellent manners and courtesy, despite his mother being a prostitute. While Xue Yang would have fully expected him to steal a glance, to comment upon it was a startling breach of manners for the other young man. His pleasantly smiling face immediately turned deep pink with embarrassment, but Xue Yang was too busy staring at the paper to notice. The artist had captured him perfectly, but more than that the energy of the portrait was like no other. And the admiration that seemed to have sunk into the paper with every touch of the ink. Staring at it, Xue Yang felt a completely alien sensation welling up inside him. Nobody had ever given him a gift before, he thought dazedly. It had become habit to take whatever he wanted because it was the only way he would get it. But looking at the drawing he thought that this gift felt quite different from anything else he’d ever possessed. Not taken, but freely given, like the emotion that filled the paper along with the image. The two men recognised the signature at the same time.  
“Mo Xuanyu?”  
Guangyao’s voice lilted with shock. It was pure instinct to roll the paper back up again, the gift disappearing into his sleeve so swiftly that Guangyao might be forgiven for wondering if he had even seen it at all. Xue Yang’s smile was charm and light but something considerably darker and more malevolent lurked in his dark eyes. Guangyao smiled anyway. “My younger brother can be… enthusiastic. If he’s bothering you with his attention…”  
“…Then I’d take care of my problem myself and there would be little left of him to trouble me.”  
Xue Yang replied silkily. Guangyao’s dimples flashed as though Xue Yang had just said something completely normal.  
“Of course.”  
Xue Yang realised that he was running the silken, rose-scented ribbon through his fingers at the same time he realised that the servant was still standing there, watching him with fascination. His lips curved upwards.  
“Are you waiting for my personal thanks?”  
He asked with soft sweetness. The servant’s face drained of colour until it was almost grey.  
“No, young master! Forgive me, young master!”  
He yelped and ran.


	2. My Kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy and so excited about the positive response this fic is getting. Just a couple of things to clear up. The fic is becoming a mix of both the book and the TV series. In the TV series the reason Mo Xuanyu gets thrown out of the Jin clan because he was being inappropriate with Qin Soo, Guangyao's wife whereas in the book the relationship was with Guangyao himself. It suits me much more to stick with that latter reason. Also, timelines... Stick with me on this one! I'm trying to figure out where this falls in the greater scheme of things and I'm getting confused but I WILL figure it out! Promise. Heh!
> 
> Also, I have a feeling I'm going wrong with the names. Xuanyu is Xianyu but Xue Yang is always Xue Yang. Assuming that these two are becoming increasingly familiar then what the heck will Xuanyu call him??? A-Yang???
> 
> Thanks again for the love. I really do appreciate it.

Xue Yang prowled past the rows of archers firing arrows into the targets. His shoulders were hunched higher than usual even as he fought hard to keep his usual expression on his face. He suspected that he wasn’t quite hitting the mark; the archers were beginning to look freaked out. Not without reason, this was his fifth pass. At the sight of him passing by again, one of the younger disciples became so panicked that he missed the target entirely and almost impaled one of the instructors. Curse the stars, where was he? Mo Xuanyu was part of this age group. This was where he was supposed to be at this time of day! Surely Jin Zixun hadn’t found him again? While Xue Yang was here watching archers whimper and accidentally shoot themselves in the foot was Mo Xuanyu even now being ravished in the weapons room? At this thought a blood red haze fell over Xue Yang’s eyes and Jiangzai slid from his sleeve into his hand, the tip of the blade dimpling some unknown disciple’s throat.  
“Where is Mo Xuanyu?”  
Xue Yang asked charmingly, his eyes twinkling beneath elegant black eyebrows. “I would be beholden to you if you could tell me. Quickly.”  
A ruby red pearl of blood welled up beneath Jiangzai and the disciple sucked in a breath, either at the flash of pain or in a subconscious desire to draw his throat away from the blade.  
“In the… the library…”  
His eyes were so wide that the whites were flashing like a terrified horse. Xue Yang drew the familiar scent of fear into his nostrils and gave his very best encouraging smile. The disciple’s eyes welled up with tears.  
“And what is he doing there?”  
Xue Yang asked gently. If Mo Xuanyu was missing his cultivation classes became thugs like Zixun were making his life impossible then someone was going to bleed. Unfortunately for the complete stranger standing at his blade point he happened to be convenient. Maybe they were all in on it! Maybe every single one of them was jealous of Xuanyu’s family connections and his beauty and delicacy and artistic skills! Maybe this whole damn lot of them had chased Xuanyu away somewhere private and secluded, where Zixun would be waiting… They would all bleed! By the time Xue Yang was done with them not even their dog would survive! The disciple’s nose began to run.  
“It’s his… his…. Study time…”  
His voice broke. “He has archery… after us.”  
Ah. Jiangzai disappeared smoothly up his sleeve.  
“Many thanks.”  
With a final flash of a sweet smile, Xue Yang slunk away from the training grounds towards the clan library, leaving the traumatised disciple to crumple to the floor and gibber quietly in his wake.

Mo Xuanyu was halfway through a scroll about the origins of cultivation, but he was rather distracted. Somehow every cultivator he was reading about had turned into Xue Yang in his imagination. He read about the formation of the first clan to cleanse the land of vicious ghouls and corpses and in his imagination Xue Yang skewered some great ugly brute with grey-tinged skin and white eyes through the heart whilst everyone cheered and almost fell over themselves to flock to his banner. Maybe during the fight his robes had got a little ripped… Maybe his pale and muscular chest might be exposed, just a little and his long, raven hair might have be pulled from its clasp and fallen all loose and tousled against his rock hard shoulders… Xuanyu gave a blissful sigh and curled a lock of his hair around his finger.  
“Is your history scroll more exciting than the one I learned from?”  
A melodious voice asked with suspicion from over his shoulder. “Mine never inspired me to be so… pink. Or breathless.”  
Xuanyu almost levitated with shock. To be wrenched from his historical daydreams of Xue Yang’s possible ancestor being all fired up, dishevelled and sexy to find the actual Xue Yang almost breathing down his neck was so startling that his eyes shot straight to Xue Yang’s chest.  
“You’re dressed!”  
He blurted instinctively, with disappointment. At this Xue Yang’s eyebrows shot up.  
“Well, so are you!”  
He retorted defensively, as though the Jin clan had a Naked Library Friday that he’d never been informed of.  
“As we both seem to be equally indignant about that, shall we change matters?”  
Xuanyu asked hopefully. Xue Yang regarded him in silence for a long while before eventually replying.  
“Gods help me, you just look so very sweet and innocent that I’m almost wholly convinced that you mean to create a wholesome breeze in which to study better.”  
Xuanyu gave an explosive snort of laughter. Grinning at Xue Yang, his delicate chin resting on his hands on top of the table, he murmured; “Sure. Let’s go with that. Wholesome breezes. Stronger cultivation.”  
Had he but known it, the sparkle that transformed Xue Yang’s eyes in that moment was entirely new, but then he’d never really imagined that anyone would ever flirt with him. It was a gentle, teasing flirtation that was so different from the calculating, provocative innuendo of the prostitutes he’d visited over the years that a clean, fresh breeze seemed to wash through him. Somehow, Xuanyu seemed to make him feel a little cleaner.  
“You painted me a picture.”  
He purred; his eyes fixed raptly on Xuanyu’s face. He wasn’t disappointed; the other boy promptly blushed as perfectly pink and soft as a cloud of cherry blossom. The cascade of his glossy, raven hair against those full, pink cheeks created a picture that made Xue Yang’s chest ache oddly.  
“Did you like it?”  
He murmured.  
“Such a likeness from someone who looked at me for all of five minutes.”  
Xuanyu’s lips curved a little.  
“Five minutes? Was that all? I closed my eyes and there you were, painted on my mind like I’ve been looking at you for a hundred years.”  
Oh God, there was that feeling again, like Xuanyu had reached through his ribcage and was curving his small hand around Xue Yang’s heart. He spoke words that Xue Yang had never thought he’d hear in a million years and looked at him… he didn’t even know how to describe that look.  
“Do you want to go for a walk?”  
He asked abruptly. Xuanyu looked surprised.  
“A walk?”  
Xue Yang was kind of hazy about the whole dating thing. It was not a situation he had ever expected to find himself in, but he had seen the walking with his own eyes. Men of their class walked with people they held in high esteem. He had seen them! They promenaded together at a crawling pace talking about whatever dull things upper class twits tended to talk about when they were courting, beneath the full scrutiny of the entire damn clan as they looked on with smug benevolence. Sometimes if they were feeling especially daring the lady might slip her hand through his arm to rest butterfly lightly on his arm. Mo Xuanyu was the clan leader’s son and as naturally gentile and aristocratic as anyone Xue Yang had ever met. Xue Yang could only imagine the whole clan looking on anything he did with admiring approval and if that was what spending more time with him needed then Xue Yang was a man, he would step up and be paraded like a rich woman’s lap dog.  
“Your kind goes for walks. That’s what they do!”  
He said defensively and Xuanyu’s beautiful, velvety eyes widened.  
“My kind?”  
He squeaked.  
“Nobility!”  
Xuanyu opened his mouth and then closed it again. So many emotions ran across his face that Xue Yang couldn’t even begin to pick one out. Eventually a sad smile touched his rosy lips.  
“I’m… sorry. I thought you knew that what Zixun and his friends were saying about me… was true. I… like men.”  
“I knew that.”  
Xue Yang replied, his brow furrowing. Now Xuanyu looked confused.  
“And the drawing I sent to you was a gesture… of my admiration.”  
By now Xue Yang was regarding him like he’d grown a second head.  
“Well I hope so. And so, we go for a walk!”  
“Do you know what you’re saying?”  
Xuanyu was beginning to lose his temper. “When I first came here, my half brother Guangyao was kind to me. We were in the same unique position when both of us would have been desperately lonely and insecure. I… developed feelings for him. Do you know what happened next?”  
He asked, his dark eyes flashing. Xue Yang was rather struggling with the revelation that Xuanyu had held strong feelings for his only friend to give the question his full attention.  
“You walked?”  
He growled and Xuanyu’s eyes widened into soup plates.  
“He reported me to his father, you fool!”  
He shouted. There was a sudden, deathly silence in the library and Xuanyu turned poppy red before the colour drained out of his cheeks to leave them sickly white. Xue Yang cast a slow, deliberate glance to the other students in the library.  
“As you were.”  
He drawled silkily, staring them down before he was satisfied that they were too busy cowering in fear to try to eavesdrop. He turned his attention back to the trembling Xuanyu.  
“He told his father? Guangyao?”  
“It wasn’t a romantic thing. He’s my half-brother.”  
Xuanyu said wretchedly in a voice that was little above a whisper. “It’s revolting to even think about…”  
Now that pallor took on a tinge of green and Xue Yang grimaced. His morals were flexible things but even he would pause at fucking a blood relative. Xuanyu took a shuddering breath. “My father made it clear that my position here is entirely reliant on his indulgence and he would not be indulgent towards a son that shames him by being a cut sleeve.”  
Xue Yang tilted his head and his hair spilled like silken midnight over his sleeve.  
“So, what were you offering me?”  
He asked with cool curiosity. Xuanyu’s eyes filled with tears. What had he been offering the other boy? Or had he been so caught up in his romantic dreams that he hadn’t thought of anything else? Truth be told, had he even considered that Xue Yang might return his feelings even a little? Xuanyu had never had a real friend before, let alone a lover. Back home in Mo village his position as a son of the ruling family ensured that the ordinary folk kept their distance, but his illegitimate status meant that he was tainted; not nearly good enough for others of his class to play with. It was a desperately lonely, romantic little boy that spun sweet dreams out of thin air to sustain his gentle soul. Xue Yang had seemed as far out of reach as the stars when Xuanyu set his longing eyes on him. “A quick fuck?”  
Xuanyu recoiled at the crude words and Xue Yang saw it. His cheeks flushed a little and he corrected himself.  
“A fu…fumble?”  
It was that perhaps that moment that Xuanyu’s soft heart cracked wide open. Oh God but he was so sweet! His lips trembled.  
“What can I offer you?”  
He asked humbly, so quietly that his voice was little above a breath. Xue Yang sighed, something soft appearing in his dazzling eyes.  
“Don’t ever belittle yourself again, Xuanyu.”  
He rose gracefully to his feet, his body already crackling with energy. He rolled his shoulders, catching hold of Xuanyu’s hand and pulling him up behind him. “We’re going to walk. Don’t worry. I said I’d protect you.”  
“Against my father?”  
Xuanyu asked incredulously as he was dragged in the direction of the library doors. Xue Yang looked back at him and a grin lit up his face. It was wild and perhaps a little unhinged, but it was genuine.  
“Against anyone. Against everyone!”

The day had softened towards twilight. On the horizon the blue sky had flushed to rose pink and gold; so bright and luminous that the tree line was black in contrast. The two young men walked slowly together. Xue Yang was laughing. At his side Xuanyu was leaping around like a delicate piece of thistledown, his sword in hand as he skewered imaginary villains. As he spun to attack one particularly tricky character his pale robes swung around him and Xue Yang’s heart missed a beat. It had started out simply enough. As the two of them stomped grimly forward as though they were marching out against hordes of enemies rather than taking a pleasant walk in the cool evening air, Xue Yang had brought up the first topic to come to mind, to distract his deathly white companion. Anything that might stop Xuanyu looking as though he was going to throw up any second! That happened to be the scroll that Xuanyu had been reading in the library. Xue Yang was becoming used to his conversations with the other boy not going at all like he had imagined them but how they had gone from History to Xue Yang leading an army half naked to unite the entire cultivation world had taken him by surprise. His stomach ached with laughter.  
“Do I have to be half naked?”  
He asked plaintively and Xuanyu gave him an affronted look.  
“You were working hard! Your robes ripped!”  
“I feel uneasy about fighting off an army of the undead whilst I’m naked, I confess.”  
“That’s probably because of the amount of weaponry you have stashed in your robes.”  
Xuanyu replied dryly. Xue Yang gave him his best innocent expression.  
“Weaponry?”  
“Mmmm. Jiangzai in your sleeve, at least one stiletto in your other sleeve and probably so many other things that I’m truly amazed you don’t clank when you move.”  
Xue Yang grinned, oddly flattered that Xuanyu had recognised his lethal readiness. He would realise now that protecting him against all comers would be no empty boast. As well as the blades that Xuanyu had seen there was also the garotte that was sewn into his robe, the vials of corpse powder and other poisons and – in the most secure of pockets – his piece of the Yang metal. Today there was something new in his robe. In one of the pockets, wrapped up safe against damage was a scroll of paper with his image on it.

“Xue Yang. Younger brother.”  
They had both been so caught up in their conversation that they had quite forgotten where they were. Xue Yang spun around instinctively, putting himself between Xuanyu and… his brother. Guangyao gave them both a gentle, dimpled smile and bowed with the same effortless grace that Xuanyu showed when he moved. For half brothers they were so alike in so many ways and that surely had to come from their father’s blood. Xue Yang felt his mind reel at the thought of fat, greasy, womanising Jin Guangshan showing an ounce of the same talent, grace and elegance as his two illegitimate sons.  
“Guangyao!”  
Considering what Xuanyu had told him, that his brother had sold out their blossoming friendship and closeness to his father then Xue Yang was fascinated to see how Xuanyu would react to him. To his mind if Xuanyu had taken his sword and skewered his brother through the throat then he was so justified in the action that Xue Yang would help him bury the body afterwards, but he couldn’t quite see Xuanyu being so… impulsive. Instead, Xuanyu stepped to the side of Xue Yang so he could face his brother unobstructed. His velvety eyes were not cold, as such but Xue Yang had not realised that Xuanyu could be so utterly without expression. His lively face had stiffened to a cool mask and whatever he felt about his brother being right in front of him was something that Xue Yang could not fathom. But he was watching, he could see that. He was watching Guangyao as intently as Xue Yang might watch a venomous snake that he suddenly found close by. And Guangyao smiled back at him in a way that Xue Yang had seen before.  
“Younger brother.”  
He said again. “How lucky you are to be so advanced in your studies that you can afford to take the afternoon off!”  
“How lucky I am to have an older brother that takes such an interest in my studies.”  
Xuanyu murmured.  
“Alas, we are not all so blessed with free time.”  
Guangyao continued sorrowfully. “You are lucky to have a child’s timetable but A-Yu, you are taking the time of your elders now. Xue Yang has important responsibilities.”  
While Xuanyu was just a child. The stinging rebuke was delivered with such gentle, dimpled affection that it was an effort to look past it and see the dagger thrust right into his younger brother’s guts.  
“Guangyao, there’s always time for fun.”  
Xue Yang told him, his smile flashing white. “Are you rebuking him or me for our free and easy ways? Do you have handcuffs in your robe to chain me in the basement while I slave away at my tasks?”

Xuanyu looked up at Xue Yang sharply. Oh, that was a strange look! His beautiful eyes were shining like stars, his sharp little incisors flashing and his light tone such that it was almost enough to hide the darker undercurrent to his words. Almost. The hint of threat was still there, like a treacherous undertow. Turning his attention back to Guangyao, Xuanyu watched his brother hesitate. Oh now, isn’t this interesting, brother? I’m nothing at all to be feared or respected but Xue Yang…ahhhhh, you’re not at all sure what he might do. And Guangyao responded just as Xuanyu would have expected he would. His smile turned up a notch; his dark eyes deep pools of affection.  
“Forgive me.”  
He chuckled softly. “Of course, I’m not about to chain you up in the dungeon. I’m just so eager to see your results.”  
“And results have not been slow in coming.”  
Xue Yang’s dazzling smile cranked up a gear; radiating dazzling bonhomie.   
“Of course.”  
Guangyao retreated from the conflict as beautifully as Xuanyu had ever seen it done. “Xuanyu…”  
“…Is mine to deal with. Or not.”

They both watched him walk away.  
“Be careful.”  
Xuanyu said quietly. “For all his humility Guangyao has power. If he decides that the irritation you cause is greater than your use to him then you’ll never see him coming. I didn’t.”  
His voice held a note of bitterness. Xue Yang smiled a small, secret smile and slid something out of his sleeve. It was a glass vial of a smoky red powder. Xuanyu took it automatically when he handed it to him.  
“Corpse powder.”  
Xue Yang said with a sunshine smile. “It’s child’s play to get a ghost puppet to swallow it and then turn the ghost puppet on Guangyao on a night hunt. When he slays it… pouff!”  
“Poison?”  
Xuanyu’s eyes widened.  
“The difference I have noticed between other people and myself is their stupidity in leaving a threat alive to trouble them. I am not stupid.”  
Gazing at the other boy in silence for a long moment Xuanyu thought that he might just have been so focused on the venomous snake that he’d failed to see the hunting cat crouched behind it, ready to swallow it up. Comfort was the last thing he’d expected to feel but watching Guangyao walk away with Xue Yang watching him in turn, the little vial of corpse powder in his hand that was exactly what Xuanyu felt. He tried to pass the vial back to Xue Yang and the other boy looked rather hurt.  
“It’s a gift!”  
Well, of course it was.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think of this! I'm finding it a bit tough to make subtle changes to Xue Yang's character without losing the sparkly evil that makes him such a pleasure to watch and read about! There is a reason most of the cast seemed to be dying to play this guy and I don't want to f*** it up!


End file.
